Some seventy yards from the shore of Death Creek and parallel to it, a tongue of land, covered with scrub and a few oaks, ran down into the Saltings, its point ending on their path, beyond which were a swamp and the broad river.

Between this tongue and the shore of the creek the track wended its way to the uplands.

It was an ancient track; indeed the reason of its existence was that here the Romans or some other long dead hands had built a narrow mole or quay of rough stone, forty or fifty yards in length, out into the water of the creek, doubtless to serve as a convenience for fisher boats, which could lie alongside of it even at low tide.

This mole had been much destroyed by centuries of washing, so that the end of it lay below water, although the landward part was still almost sound and level.
Coming over the little rise at the top of the wooded tongue, the quick eyes of Wulf, who rode first--for here the path along the border of the swamp was so narrow that they must go in single file--caught sight of a large, empty boat moored to an iron ring set in the wall of the mole.
"Your fishermen have landed, Rosamund," he said, "and doubtless gone up to Bradwell." "That is strange," she answered anxiously, "since here no fishermen ever come." And she checked her horse as though to turn.
"Whether they come or not, certainly they have gone," said Godwin, craning forward to look about him; "so, as we have nothing to fear from an empty boat, let us push on." On they rode accordingly, until they came to the root of the stone quay or pier, when a sound behind them caused them to look back.

Then they saw a sight that sent the blood to their hearts, for there behind them, leaping down one by one on to that narrow footway, were men armed with naked swords, six or eight of them, all of whom, they noted, had strips of linen pierced with eyelet holes tied beneath their helms or leather caps, so as to conceal their faces.
"A snare! a snare!" cried Wulf, drawing his sword.